Because Chandler had gone quiet, Sarita assumed he’d been thinking, and she had been doing the same. First thought: to get off of his lap before she gave in to his invitation to ride the rest of the way back in his arms. Second thought: If she did give in, how much harm could there really be in pretending just for a moment that this was her life and that he was the man she’d married? Her mind floated back to the memories of his hot words on the dance floor. She had her answer. Chandler was probably dangerous in ways she couldn’t even imagine. “I think I want to sit back over there.”
“We’re both adults, Sarita.”
“I know,” she admitted, but left his lap anyway. Sarita was battling herself. She didn’t consider herself a prude. No sister in her right mind would kick a man like him to the curb, but sleeping with him would make her a coconspirator in her own captivity. Her strong sense of self refused to support such an illogical choice, and there was no sense in pretending she enjoyed being kept under his lock and key. There was something she had to know though. “What you said to me while we were dancing—have you used that with other women?”
Myk wanted to lie; male consensus was: Never tell a lady the depths of your feelings, but telling her the truth felt right. “No,” he confessed softly. “You’re the only one.”
The implications resonated through Sarita with such power she drew in a shaky breath.
“Which is why we need to talk,” he added. Without asking permission, he scooped her up again and set her back on his lap.
“Chandler!”
“When we were dancing, you called me, Mykal.”
She went red-light still.
He added, “You’ve only called me Mykal twice since we met.”
She couldn’t deny that, or that both times had been because his kisses had turned her brain into oatmeal.
“Lean in,” he invited softly again. “Like I said earlier, this wedding reception will probably be my one and only. I’d like to end the evening by holding my wife, even if she isn’t real.”
Sarita knew she was fighting a losing battle. Being with him was like being buffeted by high winds. She was rattled, torn, and yes, seduced by all that he was. His words had been spoken honestly, though, and hadn’t she agreed to play this role? Swallowing her misgivings, she leaned in and placed her head against his chest.
As she settled in, Myk gently tightened his arms around her. The contact of her softness fired his blood. The sensations seared him so badly, he had to close his eyes against the sweet pain.
Sarita asked quietly, “You are going to behave, right?”
“Probably not.”
She rose.
He responded with a soft shrug. “I’m telling the truth.”
She shook her head. “What am I going to do with you?”
“You tell me….”
For a moment neither seemed able to speak. The heat of their attraction rose like steam. He traced the skin of her cheek. She trembled with sensual response.
“I’m waiting for an answer,” he whispered, then grazed his lips across her jaw.
It took Sarita a moment to form words. “You’re making it hard for me to think….”
“Good…” he murmured, brushing his mouth against the perfumed warmth of the skin beneath her ear. “If we think, we may have to come to our senses.”
Sarita could feel every inch of her body beginning to sing. This is crazy, she thought, but his lips were nearing hers, and what little sense she had left took flight.
The kiss was long, welcomed. The passion they’d been playing around with all evening rose up and opened the door to something they both knew was a bad idea but let consume them anyway. They fed slowly—inviting, learning, feeding each other. As happens, this initial taste was not enough, so he cuddled her tighter, closer. When his tongue moved enchantingly against the sensitive corners of her mouth, she groaned with pleasure. She didn’t know her coat had fallen open until she felt his lips traveling down her arched throat to pay dizzying torrid tribute to the skin above the sapphire necklace.
Myk wanted her, her lips, her throat, the jeweled lobe of her ear. His hand slid into her coat and lazily began to explore the curves and valleys of her silk-encased body; he wanted to touch more. He husked out against her ear, “Baby, if you don’t want me doing this, you need to say something, right now…”
Sarita was floating in a pleasure-filled fog. Her vision was hazy, her lips parted with passion. His big hands were lazily sliding all over her—tempting her, inviting her to experience a bliss intended solely for her delight. She was halfway to orgasm, and he hadn’t even touched her inside of her clothes. The anticipation of that made her moan.
He teased a very expert finger over one nipple. “Tell me something…” he coaxed.
Speaking was the farthest thing from Sarita’s mind. She was so hot and throbbing everywhere she didn’t know how much more her body could take.
He eased down the zipper on the side of her dress, then without a word undid the front hook on her strapless ivory bra and freed her breasts. When he took one candy-hard nipple into his mouth, her orgasm broke, and she cried out.
Myk knew an orgasm when he heard one. He was surprised that she’d come so quickly, but the knowledge made him hard as hell.
Sarita came back to herself, shimmering. The echoes of her release pulsed between her thighs like the faint fading beats of a drum. She noted the warmth of his embrace and the sound of her own breathing. When she could speak again, she confessed quietly, “You probably don’t think I’m very good at this.”
“Good at what?”
“Sex.”
Myk decided then and there that she had to be the fiercest, most honest woman he’d ever met. He squeezed her gently. “Why would I think that?”
“Because I came so quickly.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” He reached down and teased his finger over her still-exposed pebble-hard nipple. “Are you always so—quick?”
Under his expert coaxing, Sarita felt the heat spring to life again. “Not usually, no, but with you—”
Their eyes met and held. Myk wanted more of her. No sense in lying. Like all males, though, he was pleased to hear that he was affecting her as much as she’d been affecting him.
“Don’t get a big head,” she chastised lightly. Even though she couldn’t see him clearly, she was sure he was pleased with himself. “I’ve been celibate for the last year. I’m blaming my quickness on that.”
He chuckled.
She smiled.
“Why celibacy?”
She shrugged. “After my last relationship ended, I decided it was easier. I—”
Suddenly the limo’s door was open, and cold night wind came swirling inside. A panicked Sarita snatched her coat closed over her bare breasts, then shrank back against the shelter of Myk’s broad chest.
“Dammit, Gee! Close that door!” Myk barked at his driver, Walter McGhee. The order was immediately followed, but Sarita was mortified. She and Chandler had been so much into each other that neither noticed that the car had stopped. They were home.
Myk said, “I guess we’re here.”
“Guess so.”
He patted her on the butt. “Up. Let’s go outside so I can kill Gee.”
Sarita hastily tried to fix her clothes. Her nervous fingers couldn’t rehook the bra, though, and as a result it wouldn’t go back down beneath the top of her dress. Although he didn’t say a word in response to her fumbling, she sensed his silent amusement. “Laugh, and I will punch you.”
“Laughing never crossed my mind,” he lied.
In the end, a frustrated Sarita gave up and had to settle for holding her coat tightly closed over her nakedness. How in the world she would ever be able to look Walter McGhee in the face was beyond her. She was sure he’d gotten an eyeful. She blamed it all on Chandler.
Sarita’s plan to run straight to the house and avoid Walter didn’t happen. The moment she and Myk stepped out of the limo, a female
voice came out of the night, and called cheerily, “Myk, over here. I know you told me to come by your office Monday morning, but I thought I’d come tonight instead.”
Faye.
Sarita rounded on him. The driveway’s floodlights clearly showed his irritation.
The coolness Myk saw in Sarita’s eyes made his mouth tighten. “It’s business,” he told her. “Strictly.”
He then turned to Walter. “Take Sarita on into the house before she catches cold. You can head home after that.”
Holding on to her coat and not caring whether Walter followed or not, Sarita turned and went inside.
Myk was so mad at Faye for showing up like this he wanted to chase her away with a stick. His plan had been to whisk Sarita inside, strip off that dress, and slowly begin again. Instead, he was standing out in the cold knowing Faye was there to cause trouble. Well, he’d deal with her now because after tonight he wouldn’t have to deal with her ever again.
When she reached his side, she said, “I hope my showing up like this won’t cause trouble in paradise.”
Myk noted that she didn’t bother hiding the bitterness in her voice. “Let’s just go in and get this over with.”
Faye raised her chin and headed to the door.
Upstairs in her room, Sarita tossed her coat onto the bed. She knew she had no reason being upset over Miss Faye’s showing up, but it didn’t matter. She was. Sarita slid the zipper down on her dress just far enough to strip off the offending bra. She sent it sailing onto the bed, too. On her way to the closet, she happened to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror of the vanity table. She stopped. Her bared breasts had spilled over the partially opened gown. The sapphires sparkled like blue stars against her brown skin. She paused and studied the reflection. She looked like an erotic painting. Her nipples were hard, her lips parted. She could still feel Chandler’s lips on her breasts, and the heat of that white-hot orgasm. Lord! She raised wondrous fingers to her lips. What a man!
Putting him out of her mind—after all he was downstairs with Faye—Sarita turned away from her reflection and slid the zipper the rest of the way down. She was just getting ready to step out of the dress when a rap on the door froze her in motion. Before she could say anything it swung open and a surprised Sarita watched Chandler walk in. The way his hot eyes traveled over her made her slowly drag the dress up to cover herself. “Whatever happened to ‘May I come in’?” she asked coolly.
Myk had never been with a woman who made him hard each and every time he saw her. “I apologize. I—”
“Turn around.”
He didn’t want to, she could see it in his eyes, but for the first time, he actually did what she asked. She used the moment to slip back into the dress. She didn’t bother retrieving her bra because that would take time. Yes, he had touched her, and yes, he’d made her orgasm in the backseat of his limo, but that didn’t mean she was going to be parading around like a stripper in a video.
“Now you can turn back.”
When he did, his disappointment was plain.
She ignored the glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Done with the Faye business?”
“No. She’s waiting downstairs.”
“Then why are you up here?”
“Making sure you’re okay.”
Sarita found that heartwarming. “I am.”
“Want to meet Faye?”
“No,” she said shaking her head and chuckling, “Maybe another time.”
“Too bad.”
“Why?”
“Trying to see how much madder I can make her.”
“Why is she so mad?”
“Because I married you.”
Sarita wondered if clothes made out of lead would keep her from feeling the heat of his desire on her skin. The silk gown she was wearing was way too thin to offer any protection. “Oh.”
“She brought me her bills.”
“Why?”
“So I can pay them.”
That surprised Sarita. “Are you going to?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it’ll get her out of my life for good.”
“Is it a lot—the total bills I mean?” The sum he quoted made Sarita’s jaw drop. “And you’re going to pay it!”
He nodded.
“You’re crazy,” she said. “No way in the world would I pay off some hoochie’s bills.”
Myk smiled inwardly. If he could bottle her energy and sell it, he’d be the richest man in the world by far. “I think Faye would prefer to be called a gold digger.”
Sarita said sarcastically, “Right.”
Myk couldn’t contain his laughter.
Sarita noted the rare sound and smiled. “You probably shouldn’t keep her waiting.”
“You’re right.” But Faye was the farthest thing from his mind. He hadn’t meant to burst in on Sarita unannounced as he had, but the memory of her nude in his hands had been permanently burned into his mind. He could see her bra on the bed, which meant her breasts were bare beneath the silk gown. “Sure you don’t want to join me?”
The soft-spoken invitation coupled with his own unique magnetism played havoc with Sarita’s hold on herself. Nothing was sure where he was concerned.
He asked, “Will you come if I promise to behave myself?”
His sultry tone stoked Sarita’s desire like wood thrown on a fire. She’d never been around a man who could verbally seduce so well. The double entendre of the word, come, turned up the heat even higher. “Women don’t tell you no, do they.”
“Not often.”
“They should,” she stated, even as she felt her nipples hardening shamelessly. “You’re way too good at this.”
Myk smiled. “Glad you’re having a good time.”
And she was, strangely enough. A few days ago they had been at each other’s throats, and on the ride back to his house, she’d called him a kidnapper, but now? Now, she began to tremble as he approached her slowly.
Standing in front of her, Myk reached out and traced her soft mouth. “All of your lipstick’s gone….”
“Talk to the man who’s been kissing me,” she whispered. “It’s his fault….”
The kiss that came next was inevitable. Neither had gotten enough on the short ride home, and they passionately corrected that. He nibbled her bottom lip, and she teased her tongue lazily against his. Hands roamed, and the sounds of heightened breathing floated in the silence.
“I thought you were going back downstairs…?” she asked him in between his now lazy kisses.
“In a minute.”
He captured her mouth again; wanting nothing more out of life than the tastes, scents and feel of her, just like this. Every inch of his being wanted to carry her over to the bed and feast. To that end, he began to slide her zipper down.
Loving his kisses, Sarita clamped her hands on top of his to stop their progress. “You have to go…”
He mumbled something that sounded like agreement, but she couldn’t be sure because her hearing was being overridden by the feel of his hot lips meandering over the skin of her throat and the soft tops of her breasts. Her hold on his hands melted away, freeing them to tease her nipples until they were hard in vibrant response. “Mykal…”
He raised his mouth to hers, “What?” he asked. “I’m trying to stop…”
He slid the zipper down so he could fill his palms with her silk-soft breasts. Giving in to a purely male need, he dropped his head and pleasured her until she was gasping. His manhood was roaring like a jet engine. If he didn’t get a full taste of her soon, he was going to burst.
He breathed huskily, “Okay. I’m stopping…We can go downstairs, now.” Holding her in the circle of his arms, Myk looked down into her beautiful face and couldn’t ever remember going to such lengths to seduce a woman before.
Sarita wasn’t ready to go anywhere; she could just about imagine how she looked with her lips all swollen and her eyes half-closed. “I can’t go down there looki
ng like this. She’s going to know what we’ve been doing.”
He didn’t respond.
Sarita leaned back to study his face for a moment. Then it came to her. “That’s what you want her to see.”
She had to hand it to him; he didn’t look away when she hit the nail on the head. “This really is a game with you, isn’t it?” Sarita could feel anger replacing everything she’d felt up to that point. Why did she keep forgetting. She tried to back out of his arms, but he wouldn’t let her go.
Myk didn’t lie. “Yes, it’s a game, but you and I are the only players. Faye has nothing to do with us. Period.”
She eyed him a moment, then asked, “Does paying off her bills and getting her out of your life have anything to do with the way we met?”
Myk went still at the accuracy of her guess. Faye was trouble all the way around. With her out of his life, NIA would have one less security concern. “Yes,” he replied finally.
“Took you a while to answer,” Sarita pointed out.
“Wanted to say the right thing.”
“Uh-huh.” Sarita didn’t believe him for a minute. More than likely he was deciding how much of the truth he needed to share. She backed out of his arms and zipped her dress again. “You know, if you told me what this is all about—”
“Not tonight, okay.”
Sarita saw the seriousness in his face. “Okay.” She supposed tonight was not a night for such a discussion. They hadn’t argued all day, and she wanted that record to continue. In reality, Sarita did want to see Faye up close, if only to see the kind of woman he’d been attracted to once upon a time. “I suppose it won’t hurt to meet her. Should I go down and clown? Put my hands on my hips and tell her ghetto style to stay away from my man?”
He grinned. “Let’s save the stereotypes for another time.”
She grinned back. “Let me brush my hair right quick, and we can go.”
Myk had asked Faye to take a seat in the big sitting room off the foyer. When he finally returned with Sarita in tow, her flashing hazel eyes told him exactly what she thought of being kept waiting. He ignored her displeasure and made the introductions. “Faye Riley. My wife, Sarita.”
The Edge of Midnight Page 16